


FN-2187'S Last Night

by LavenderNomad



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Female sex, First Time, First time with Finn sex, Gender Neutral, POV Second Person, Slight Voyeurism, Stormtrooper!Reader, Vaginal Sex, not first time sex but, sad sex, unprotected sex, use birth control irl everyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 22:43:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7659739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LavenderNomad/pseuds/LavenderNomad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You wanted to talk to FN-2187 about your blaster.</p><p>He wanted to tell you something else.</p><p>Pre-Jakku | FN-2187/Reader</p>
            </blockquote>





	FN-2187'S Last Night

**Author's Note:**

> Based loosely on canonical backstory. 
> 
> Everyone likes to think of Finn as virginal, but let's be real: he was in barracks with tons of people his own age. There was definitely hanky-panky going on. And since Stormtroopers/cadets don't really get any privacy, well... They're probably not going to try to hard to not use their barracks for sex.

_What the First Order doesn’t know won’t kill them._

That’s all you can think as you kiss FN-2187 in this tiny top bunk in the barracks. Lying on top of him, legs on either side of his hips, you whine quietly to his mouth. He responds with a groan. Of course you aren’t necessarily _alone_ , but you can’t mind; it’s always been like this. The murmurs of the other cadets is easy to ignore; there’s always someone fooling around in the bunkers. And with no private place to go, if you wanted to be left alone while you were getting it on, you had to ignore when others were doing it all around you. 

His lips are dry and firm against yours, his hands sliding down your sides. With a firm grip, he holds your hips against him, and you can feel the bulge in his off-duty pants.

Rumors had said Eight-Seven didn’t need release. As the top cadet in the academy, he was deeply admired by everyone, and certainly many had tried to … _spend time with him._ But the gossip divulged here; some insisted he was a sex god, as good in the sack as he was in class; others said he turned down almost all the advances and instead, he worked hard on his training, even in his spare time. 

No wonder Captain Phasma told everyone he was the ideal Stormtrooper. Word had it that his simulation was one of the top examples and that he’d definitely make officer corps. 

He and the FN troops were already scheduled for their first mission; something on Jakku. It hadn’t been made clear to you, since you were in a different squadron, but you knew it was a big deal.

Maybe that’s why, when you had peaked up at his bunk to ask him something about your blaster—really, an excuse to talk to him like you do every other day—he had smiled so hesitantly. Maybe that’s why he offered his hand to climb up into his bunk instead of jumping down to help you. Maybe that’s why he had asked if he could kiss you. 

Who would say no to the top cadet? Especially with lips like his, cheekbones that glinted in the dim lights and a chin and jawline everyone wanted to touch. And his eyes—they were dark, inquisitive and intelligent and…. Well… they always reminded you of something, something you were scared to explore since you didn’t want to be reprogrammed. 

At any rate, you were here, in his bunk, in the barracks, laying on top of his strong, hard body. He must have recently showered because he smelled like the squadron soap and his own musk that reminded you of something sweet and spicy. Eight-Seven’s lips moved against yours, pulling and pushing, not giving you a break, and you sensed something like desperation. 

That couldn’t be right. 

Your thoughts are broken as he wraps his arms around your back, pressing you into him. You awkwardly twist your hands from his chest to grasp his neck and you suck on his bottom lip. He sighs, tilting his head back and you kiss down his chin, pressing your mouth against the column of his neck. Pressing your tongue to the pulse in his neck, it’s beating erratically and you suck gently. He’s tapping your arm and you lean up to kiss him before sitting back to pull your shirt and issued undergarments off. 

Eight-Seven’s hands fly to your hips as he takes you in. There’s something molten and wonderful in the dark, warm pools of his eyes as he catches your gaze. A warm, calloused hand holds the small of your lower back as he sits up to kiss you again. It’s hot and brief before he’s pressing the softest, gentlest kisses down your cheek, to your ear, your neck, your collarbone. You whine, softly, as he wraps those wonderful lips around one nipple, sucking gently. Pleasure shoots through you, and he’s kissing along your chest to the other breast, doing the same to the other. There’s something tender about this moment and you want to hold your breath or else you’ll ruin it….  
You reach down to pull his shirt up over his chest and he quickly finishes taking it off and you sit back, grinding against his hard-on, as you admire him. Your hands trace the dark plane of his chest, glimmering like ink. His body is anything but fluid and feels so strong and present and you have to lean forward to press your lips to him again.

It’s never been like this before for you. With other cadets, it was fast, quick, to the point. But with Eight-Seven, you wanted to linger, to explore, to taste. His flesh is so warm and so sturdy, his skin is dark and smooth, and you want to bask in it. You know you are probably wet between your legs and you just want friction, and you grind desperately against him. “Eight-Sev—“

He quiets you with his mouth, softly, and you instead moan into him. His hands are sliding down your back, down the waistline of your bottoms, and he’s sliding them down. You rise to your haunches momentarily and then they’re moved down enough that you can feel the harsh fabric of his clothes against your most sensitive area. He’s going to have to wash his clothes, what with the way you’re leaking all over him. 

One finger comes to trace your lower lips and you sigh into him, pressing your forehead against his shoulder. He groans appreciatively, the pad of his index finger simply moving all around your hole; his other hand holds you steady against his back as you whimper. He kisses your cheek. “Sh, sh… I’ve got you.” His voice is warmed honey over your body and you shiver. Nosing along your hairline, his mouth is next to your ear and his breath is warm. “Do you want to sleep with me tonight?” 

“Please, yes,” You say into his chest. You are so hot and wet and you just want to feel him. Just want to be closer to him than you are now. His chest is so warm as it presses against your breasts, the hard expanse of his back rippling beneath your hands as you cling to him. He nods, and you almost cry as he moves away. He quiets you with another kiss and gestures for your to rise up and he’s pulling his pants down to his thighs, his own undergarments tangled in the mess.

You don’t want to wait for him to undress himself completely, and you lower yourself, your butt on his thick thighs, his cock rubbing along your folds teasingly. He gasps, hands immediately stilling your hips. He is breathing heavy, eyes watching you. “Now?” He asks, between breaths. You can hear the quiet voices of the others in the barracks but somehow it’s so easy to ignore. You nod and he lets you push him to lie down as you rise to your haunches. Hovering for just a fraction over him, letting the head of his cock catch your cunt before you lower onto him. He lets out a bone-deep growl, his eyes squeezing shut. You sigh; you are still wanting but something about the stretch inside you is comforting and you are content to sit here a little. 

Not long, of course. You press your hands onto his chest; his pectorals are tensed beneath your palms, and you admire the way his skin ripples waves of shiny black and warm brown in the dim room. He’s seated inside you, and you press your hips down, before back; you continue this and you sigh. He’s biting his lip, jaw tense, and he’s admiring you as you move along him. It feels wonderful to know he’s inside of you, in front of you, and suddenly he’s leaning up on an elbow, one hand on your face to kiss you again.

You moan as he thrusts up and you meet him. You’re the desperate one, now, as you chase that orgasm; Eight-Seven is pumping himself in and out of you, and you bounce up and down on his thighs. Every thrust feels wonderful, like an explosion inside of you, and your mouth hangs open. One of his hands is on your hip, to help you drive backwards onto his cock, the other firmly planted on your ass as a guide for his dick. The wet _slap! slap! slap!_ is quiet but quick and somehow Eight-Seven’s dick feels so good brushing every part inside of you that you want it too. 

You clench your inner walls around him, and he cries out, throwing his head back. His muscles are taut and you lean down to suck on his pulse, unable to watch this beautiful man without needing to taste. FN-2187’s hands are tight on your skin and yours are clawing at his back and you’re suddenly spiraling, tossed over the edge and he’s still thrusting into you, drawing it out, his voice quietly cheering you on— _“Yes, yes, that’s good, yes”_ —and then he’s coming, spilling himself inside of your trembling walls. 

You both hold each other, out of breath. He’s slowly softening inside of you and you can feel some of his slick drip and you don’t want to let go. A hand on your stomach pushes you gently back and there’s that _thing_ in his eyes again, that thing that makes you wonder who you were before the First Order, that thing that scares you because what if you have that thing too. His brow is furrowed softly, he’s looking at you but not, his gaze distant but moving between your eyes. You don’t know why, but somehow it feels different. 

You don’t really understand when he holds your face between his hands and kisses you, first on your forehead then on your lips. It’s restrained, now, tender but still wanting and you don’t know how to respond because you’re still so scared.   
The controlled air in the room cools your sweaty body. There are less murmurs now that it’s later. You quietly and awkwardly dress—Eight-Seven hands you your shirt. When you throw your legs over the side of his bunk to climb down, you hesitate and look at him. He studies your face intently, with that same faraway look but he looks like he wants to say something. You smile, awkwardly and jump down.

Little did you know you wouldn’t see him again after he left for Jakku. And when word of his betrayal leaks, you’re quiet because you understand that thing, that thing in his eyes you didn’t want to think about, but you did because it’s all you could think about.

FN-2187 had been saying goodbye, and in the First Order, you never say goodbye.


End file.
